Culver's
history includes a rather unique presence and influence from its
African-American populace. A glance at early 20th century Culver (town)
yearbooks reveals a black populace integrated into Culver's public
schools and a part of the community of the town of Culver, a somewhat
unusual set of circumstances for a small Indiana town at that time.

Culver's African-American
community had its roots in the origins of the Culver Academy, founded by
H.H. Culver in 1894. When the only moderately successful school boosted
its attendance by merging with students from a St. Louis military
school, there followed a contingency of black employees to Culver from
St. Louis. Being the era that it was, African-Americans were primarily
employed in service roles: domestics, waiters, custodians and the like,
and Culver was no exception.

A
photo printed in the 1905 Lake Maxinkuckee Art Annual shows
H.H. Culver's wife entertaining guests at the Culver homestead (which
still stands on the northeast shore of the lake) with services provided
by an African-American helper. Such was the case, also, with many a
cottage on Lake Maxinkuckee, where (often female) African-American
domestic help was employed quite early on.

Below: Charlie
Dickerson and Roy Watts check their fleet of waiters before a meal at
Culver Academy's dining hall in this photo from before the late 1950s.

The
Culver Military Academy, then, nearly from its outset, employed black
help on its grounds. Perhaps most visible was its ongoing group of
African-American waiters. Today's Academy students are accustomed to a
cafeteria-style buffet dining experience at the Dining Hall, but until
the late 1950s, meals were served to cadets by African-American waiters,
the leaders of whom became well known and beloved to many students and
faculty over the years (see below).

The heyday of Culver's
African-American community might be seen as being between the 1920s and
1960s, after which older residents -- retiring and with no reasonable
jobs to replace the fading domestic and service jobs that had attracted
black workers for decades -- remained or were moved away by grown
children who had moved away. According to many residents of the day,
Culver's African-American populace (which tended to be more middle class
and educated) were fairly integrated into the community at large (see
interview with Jim Harper which follows).

What follows are
photographs and stories pertaining to the development and people of
Culver's African-American community.

Above:
Members of The Comics
baseball team in the early 1900s. The Comics were part of the segregated
"Negro Leagues" of the day, and were comprised mostly of black players
from the Culver area. In the above photo, from left: Charlie Wade,
unidentified coach, Luther Whitted, Roy Scott, and David Whitted. In the
lower photo, from left: unidentified coach, David Whitted, Charlie Wade,
two unknown players, middle row of unknown players, Roy Scott, Roy
Watts, and unknown player in front row. Photos provided by Thelma
(Hodges) Moorehead.

Some of these individuals
would later become well-known and iconic members of the community,
particularly the Academy community (Roy "Sheep" Scott and Roy Watts, for
example, became known for their roles in the wait staff at CMA).

Above: a page from the 1922 Culver high school yearbook features African-American basketball players Whitted and Wade, making this team probably Culver's first integrated team, and possibly one of the first in Indiana, if not the U.S.

Above: members of her
family and Culver's African-American community at the train station in
Hibbard to see off Thelma Scott, on her way to Washington, D.C. to
attend college at Howard University, a photo taken in 1924 and provided
by Thelma's daughter, Thelma Hodges Moorehead. That Thelma Scott (later
Thelma Hodges, a beloved figure in the Culver community when she and her
husband returned to the town later in life) was a woman attending
college was impressive; that she was an African-American woman heading
off to college in 1924 speaks both to Thelma's determination and that of
her family.

In 1912, Culver's only
African Methodist Episcopal Church, Rollins Chapel, opened its new
building. No photos are known to exist of the building (if anyone has
any, please contact us!), which sat just off of today's Lake Shore Drive
(due south of the McKesson Ford building, today's City Tavern) on
Coolidge Court. The church fell into disuse in the 1940s and was
eventually torn down as the building deteriorated (today the spot
remains an empty lot). Below is a 1912 article from the Culver
Citizen.

African Church
Services - The Culver Citizen, 1912

The new building of the
African M. E. Zion congregation was dedicated Sunday afternoon with a
Children's day service by the members of the Sunday school. The audience
was composed chiefly of white people-men, women and children-who took a
sympathetic interest in the program which was arranged and rehearsed
under the direction of Mrs. Taylor, wife of the pastor. The children
entered heartily into the rendition of their parts and the audience
seemed to enjoy every number from the shy recitation of Jeanette Artis,
a 3 year old tot, to the graceful elocu­tionary number by Miss Alberta
Armstead. At the close of the exercises Pastor Taylor made an
ef­fective plea for subscriptions and contributions to liquidate a
bal­ance due the carpenter and to pay for the seats and the organ. As a
result $22 was added to the avail­able funds of the society.

Alex Joplin is
superintendent of the school and Miss Alberta Arm­stead is assistant
superintendent.

The little church is 20x30,
and will cost about $450. It is not yet lathed and plastered, but can be
used in its present state until fall. As the indebtedness is not large,
it is safe to predict that the new society will find its "title clear"
to a permanent and comfortable place of assemblage by the time cold
weather sets in. The community should rejoice in this effort to develop
the religious and social life of the colored residents of Culver.

From One Township's
Yesterdays by Edwin Corwin (1934):

The
African M. E. Church

The
African Methodist Episcopal Church in Culver was the first a mission,
then went into the A.M.E. Conference about 1917. The first pastor under
the Conference was the Rev. Charles Bell, who died recently (in
February) during a change in Pennsylvania.

The
congregation worships in a chapel located in Harding Court, between Lake
Shore Drive and Washington Street, in the village of Culver. This is a
rather small frame building, with an open bell tower. The site is only a
few steps a distant from the shore of Lake Maxinkuckee.

The
chapel is known officially as Rollins Chapel of the African Methodist
Episcopal Church, and is a monument to an upright and God-fearing
benefactor of his race. The ground for the church edifice was donated by
George Rollins, one of the pioneer colored men of Culver, who had
property. He came with Colonel Fleet from Mexico, Missouri, when the
Colonel joined the elder Mr. Culver in the establishment of Culver
Military Academy.

At
intervals during the history of this church, resident pastors were
located at Culver. Among these was the Rev, A.T. Williams, who was
assigned as pastor in October 1924. Interest was stimulated when it was
then announced that the African M.E. Church would again have a pastor in
Culver and the first church services of the year would be held.

Above: Two articles from 1925 pertaining to the Rollins Chapel.

Left: an August 19, 1925 article on a folk concert recital at the Methodist Episcopal Church (located at the corner of Main and Washington Streets where the library addition is today) performed by the Rollins Chapel choir. It is interesting to note that the church's choir gave performances of what can only have been a unique brand of music to its audience in the Culver of that era.

Right: An August 12, 1925 article on the death of George Rollins. There is a respectful tone to the article, which describes 68-year old Rollins as coming from Mexico, Missouri (along with many other early African-American settlers here) in 1899 to the Culver Military Academy as a cook. "All of this community," says the article, "have had nothing but good words for George. He was a man of his word, believed in the right things, and acted out his beliefs."

The article further notes that Rollins "saw the need of a church in Culver for the people of his race," and that he donated the land on which the building was built, and worked very hard in the congregation. Mrs. C.L. Watts of Culver was listed as one of his surviving children.

Below: Roy "Sheep Scott"
held court at Culver Academy for decades in a number of roles, including
overseeing the janitorial staff of the campus. He also became an
unofficial "counselor" to students, many of whom adopted him as a
beloved confidant and sounding board for any number of personal and
academic problems. Scott, as was true of many of the long-term
African-American staff at CMA, was a resident of the town of Culver for
years, living on the south end of town. His daughter, Thelma, as was
previously mentioned, returned from a teaching career as Thelma Hodges
and became one of Culver's more prominent citizens until her death in
1990 (see later articles).

From left, below: Roy
"Sheep" Scott on the Academy's campus in a photo provided by Thelma
(Hodges) Moorehead; Scott holding court with Academy cadets in a photo
courtesy Academies archivist Bob Hartman; Roy Scott in two photos taken
on the site of the Culver homestead, probably in the 1950s. The first
photo shows Scott with one of the Culver brothers; both photos are
courtesy Thelma (Hodges) Moorehead.

Above, from left: Charlie Dickerson
and Roy Watts inspect waiters in the Academy dining hall, in a photo
from 1939, courtesy Bob Hartman, Academies archivist; Roy and Lillie
Scott (at right) at an Academy faculty wedding in the 1950s; "Cap" Grey, described by Jim Harper as one of Culver's "characters." He is seen here at the dining hall at Culver Academy, sometime between the 1930s and mid-1950s, where he worked.

Above: one of the regular
features of the Culver Citizen's past was a series of what can only be
called "gossip columns" designated to specific regions of the area (Burr
Oak News, News of Hibbard, Maxinkuckee village news, etc.). An
occasional example of this was the above, "In the Colored Circles,"
which documented the social goings-on of Culver's black populace. Most
of the news, as in all of the aforementioned columns, was mundane
(so-and-so visited friends in Delong and so forth), but it is
interesting that the newspaper chose to devote space to the social
activities of the African-American citizens of the area. The above
example is from Oct. 15, 1930. The "Colored Circles" column seems to
have appeared sporadically, and showed up mostly in the 1920s and 30s.

Above and below: members
of Culver's African-American community through the years. Above, from
left: Mrs. Zena Whitted, wife of David Whitted, in her Culver home.
Middle photo: Lillie Scott, wife of Roy "Sheep" Scott and mother of
Thelma Scott, who became Thelma Hodges, in the kitchen of their Main
Street home. At right: a photo captioned, "Mr. Brown Lee, roomer at Mrs.
Gussie Smith's house." All photos here provided by Thelma (Hodges)
Moorehead, grand-daughter of Lillie Scott.

Above: Photos from Barbara (Moore) Cope's collection. The Moore family lived in Culver for several years, and Barbara (who now lives in Gary and has become an acclaimed educator and community leader) has returned to Culver recently to participate in talks about Culver's past African-American community. From left: Barbara Moore and unidentified siblings; Moore as part of an elementary school class at Culver elementary, photographed on the school playground at the time; Barbara Moore; Barbara and two other, unidentified children; Omey Ross, Lucille Moore, Elva Moore, and an unidentified person; Barbara Moore Cope in 2006.

Above: Charles
Dickerson, Jr. as profiled in a 1938 edition of The Culver Citizen,
described as "one of the best ball handlers on the (Culver High School)
team."

Above: Thelma
(Scott) Hodges, daughter of Roy "Sheep" Scott and Lillie Hodges, in her
later years. She and husband Bob Hodges returned to Culver after
retirement, and became involved in the Culver community again. Thelma,
an antiques collector, became manager of Country Cousins Antiques on the
west side of Main Street in downtown Culver and taught antiques classes
at Ancilla College. She was also active in local politics and real
estate, and a member of Wesley United Methodist Church, where her
funeral was held in 1990. The Culver Citizen memorial above, from March
21, 1990, gives more detail.

Thelma Hodges' daughter,
Thelma Lillie (Hodges) Moorehead, grew up in Culver and eventually moved
to the Virgin Islands, where she still resides. Thelma Moorehead has
provided many of the photos and information for this page.

Below: The Jan.
15, 1947 Culver Citizen announces one of the town's most memorable
tragedies: four African-American children drowned in Lake Maxinkuckee
when they fell through the ice near today's Indian Trails, east of the
town park between the park and Culver Academy. The children were on
their way to see a movie on the Academy campus, and in spite of the best
efforts of rescuers (Dave Burns, for instance, dived into the icy waters
and pulled several of the children's bodies out), the four were gone by
the time they were pulled from the waters. Martha (Payson) Ryman
recalled the long fire siren that signaled a lake emergency (usually a
drowning or someone falling through the ice) in the dark of that night,
and the numbing dread brought about by that sound. She recalls a
terrible gloom in Culver that followed, as the town joined the
children's families in mourning.

In July, 2007, Mildred Isom (originally of Culver, now of California) sent the essay that follows, along with several photos. The essay contains her recollections of her friendship with -- and subsequent grief at the death of -- Betty Jane Smith, one of the four African-American children drowned in the 1947 tragedy. Betty Jane was buried in Mildred's band uniform, a fact which (as the essay discusses) Mildred blocked from memory. Mildred Isom's essay was shared in part with the audience at a July 7, 2007 program on Culver's African-American history, and both the audience and the people participating in the program were touched not only by the essay, but the photos she sent. We are grateful to Ms. Isom for sharing these memories with all of us, and her essay is reprinted with her kind permission, below.

"Betty Jane"

Betty Jane Smith was a member of our exclusive quartet of friends at Culver High School. She was an orphan who came from Chicago to live with her grandparents in our little farm town of Culver, Indiana, in the early 1940’s. The four of us were immediately drawn together into the same activities with the same goals. Marching Band, softball and other sports were our first choices but we soon we all joined Chapel Choir and the orchestra. Our band and sports teams went out of town each year to compete in contests statewide.

Betty’s bubbly personality kept us all cheerful and here long black sausagecurls were a natural. Never before and never after have I been a part of such a fun loving, loyal and hardworking group. Before long Betty’s cousins, Eleanor, Winston and Paul arrived to live with the grandparents. Their parents were professionals in Chicago, a dentist, doctor and podiatrist. I did not even know what a podiatrist was at that time. Betty’s grandmother’s name was Augusta but we all called her Ga Ga because the little ones could not pronounce her name. The grandfather was Lloyd Smith, a rotund, jolly white-haired gentleman who kidded us for our attempts at cooking but never failed to consume it. This family was one of the only two black families in our town and were not related. In Plymouth, IN, a mere 10 miles north, blacks were not allowed in town after 6:00 pm. This was a mystery to us in our teenage years in the mid-1940’s.

More time was spent at Betty Jane’s house than mine. I was always invited for Friday night sleepovers, Sunday dinners and holidays. My mother had passed away many years before, my older sister was married and my father worked long hours and was seldom home. Betty Jane although much loved and always cheerful, still I think, felt like and orphan and basically so did I at the time. We were a comfort to each other and felt like sisters. During the summers one or more of the quartet joined us in swimming, fishing, bike ridding, and any kind of sports, music and babysitting.

On Friday nights during the summer we usually rode our bikes around the north side of Lake Maxinkuckee to attend the free movies offered by the Culver Military Academy. During the winters we walked directly across the lake which was frozen over three months of the year. One Friday night I had the flu and did not go with them. About 8:30 p.m. my father came home and told me that he and two friends had pulled Betty Jane, Winston and Paul from the lake. They had fallen through a thin spot in the ice. Betty Jane’s cousin, Eleanor Turner, was the only survivor. Eleanor said that her brother,
Winston Turner, had lifted and pushed her up onto solid ice before he succumbed. She was able to retrace her steps back to the starting point. Although my father was gentle in telling me, I doubt if he really ever knew how it affected me. My only real confidant at that time was Betty Jane’s grandmother. I remember visiting her once right after the event. We experienced tears, hugs and holding each other. As far as I remember, I never went back. I could never bear to again step into the house. This occurred when we were in the 8th grade.

Life went on, of course, Eleanor continued high school with us but we did not become any closer as she was the studious one and being chubby all her life, she did not care for sports. She did continue to be in the marching band. At our class reunion six years ago she wrote saying she was married, living in New York and regretted she would not be able to attend the reunion.

After the reunion banquet, three of us left in the quartet, met at Helen Sikora Zalas’ house, my longtime girlfriend’s, in South Bend, IN, to carry on with our own reunion. After rehashing and chuckling about a lot of past incidents, Betty Jane’s name was brought up. Helen turned to me and said, “That was really nice of you to let them use your band uniform for Betty to be buried in.” I said something like “huh”? Then the other two girls told me the Band Director had asked if I would donate my uniform and I had said yes so they transferred my medals onto a maroon cardigan sweater. Helen asked if I remembered going to the services. I had to say “no”, I was told we all marched fully uniformed down Main Street to the Evangelical Church for services and further to the cemetery. One of the girls said that the Band Director accumulated enough funds to purchase a new uniform jacket for me about a year later. I had no recollection of these events at the time and still do not.

As the years go by I still think of Betty Jane and the way we were (pause) a long time ago.

Additional Notes: The last name of Eleanor and Winston was Turner. The married name of Eleanor or Beverly may have been “Ball.” My reunion material is unavailable at the moment.

Paul’s last name was Robeson, I believe. I do not remember how he was related. Betty Jane Smith should be remembered in any history records.

Jim Harper: Growing Up Black in
Culver

Originally
published in the Spring, 2006 Antiquarian and Historical Society of
Culver Newsletter, this interview with Culver resident Jim Harper was
conducted and edited by Jeff Kenney, and transcribed by Alison Heath,
both of the library.

Jim Harper was born in
Terra Haute Indiana. His parents, who had met in Culver (his father
worked for Culver Military Academy and his mother worked for families on
the East Shore of Lake Maxinkuckee), moved back to Culver when he was
two months old, and he spent the rest of his childhood here, leaving
after graduating high school, to attend college in Illinois. Earning
degrees in psychology and philosophy, and attending seminary, Mr. Harper
did not return to live in Culver through most of his adult, working
life. After retirement, Mr. Harper and his wife, Ina, moved from the
Chicago area to Culver, where they are involved in the community, active
in both the Lions’ Club and Trinity Lutheran Church.

Photo above left: Jim
Harper's high school graduation photo.

Could you talk about
the unique experience of being a person of color in Culver growing up?

I think Culver was
unique, even in that score, and I can only speak personally. I never
really felt that I was that much of an outsider. I have heard others say
differently, especially girls. My sisters, for example, did not feel
that they were completely accepted, as much so as I think I felt.

My brother, who is a
very very quiet person, you ask him a question and you get a “yep,”
“nope” answer, but I did call him one day very specifically because
someone had raised the question of him not being seated at a basketball
game, in his band uniform as well. I had never heard such a story and I
asked him very specifically about it. He claims it never happened. How
Termite Baker got that story I do not know, but she insisted at the time
that she was talking about it that it was true. He claims it never
happened and I never heard anything about it, so I think that, had it
happened, I would have been fully aware of it. He would have been
(because in second grade I think he was held back), so he was three
years behind me in school, which meant that he and my older sister were
in the same class, both of whom were in the band, so if that had
happened I am sure I would have known about it.

The one thing I will
say: when I was a junior or senior in high school, Argos had a skating
rink and I loved to skate and went there very very regularly. Tuesday,
Thursday, Saturday and Sunday afternoon were the skating times and if
the skating rink opened for the most time I was there, having gone with
my buddies here from Culver. I do understand that they, being the
officials of the skating rink, wondered “gee, should he be coming that
often?” and no one ever said anything to me about it. I continued to
skate ‘til I went away to school. When I came home from school for
vacation (and it was primarily vacation, Christmas or Thanksgiving,
because you just didn’t travel back and forth that quickly), I went
skating and never had any problem other than knowing that was discussed.

Did knowing that give
you a sense of unease?

I didn’t have sense to
let it, just to be real frank about it! It was one of those things that
you were aware of the fact that people of color were not always accepted
everyplace, even in this general area, but for some reason that I can’t
begin to fully explain, I never had been directly affected by that.
Aware of it, but not directly affected, in school or any place in or
around town. Well, I guess you would say that (the skating rink issue)
was “directly” when you know that was being discussed, but to say I
couldn’t do it (skate) because of that, it didn’t happen.

You mentioned the
girls. Do you think that was, overall, similar for most people of color
growing up in that era? Were you somewhat unique in that sense?

Well, I think maybe
somewhat unique, and ignorance allows you to do some things that
probably, if you were fully aware of the possible consequences, you
wouldn’t do. I credit my dad a lot for that. He didn’t let me think that
there was anything I couldn’t do. He wasn’t overt in doing that, but as
I look back he had his subtleties, and I just never felt that if I
wanted to do it I couldn’t do it and moved forward with that in mind.
The people who were my classmates, my teachers, those that I came in
contact with did nothing to squelch that feeling. For that I’m very
thankful. So, although I may have been the only one in many instances I
never felt like I was the only one in those instances. Now, I do believe
in all that I’ve learned since then, that would have been an unusual
thing to have happen, especially in that time period.

So by that you mean
other kids (of color) growing up?

Yes, even in Culver,
women especially. Now my brother doesn’t seem to have had much of a
problem either. There was (and he was older than I) a (person of color
with the last name) Windburn, and I can remember him not having that
feeling. He had served in World War II and I talked to him much later
and I know that he did not feel that he was completely free to do what
he wanted to do at all times.

He grew up in here?

Yes, he grew up here as
well. If he was alive, and this is a guestimation, he’d be in his
eighties, probably about eighty-five.

So he grew up in an
earlier era. Do you think that made a difference or do you think it’s
just his personal experience?

I really couldn’t say.
I’m sure that it had something to do with it. Most of my “growing up”
was after the war. I believe that the war changed a lot of thinking in a
lot of people. Maybe not overtly, but there were subtle changes. Like
we’ve talked about women working, and I believe that in some respect
people became more receptive to things they were not use to.

So you think that the
war even affected the race question?

I think it did.

For the better, do
you think?

In some respects, yes.
Even though the army was not integrated at that time, there were those
men who had contact with the “black soldier” and they were good soldiers
so they came to realize “Hey…” and that’s speculation on my part (to be
real frank about it) so, I don’t’ know. There have probably been some
studies to that effect. I don’t know of any that I’m aware of.
Cont. top of next column.

Can you talk about when
your dad came to work here for the Academy and maybe you can
describe why maybe that’s the reason why a lot of the black families
came here?

That’s (the Academy)
for the most part why most black families were here. The Academy
hired janitors and all of their waiters were black men, at least all
that I’ve ever known about. These people first came, a lot of them,
out of Chicago and St. Louis. Those kinds of metropolitan areas they
(the Academy) went to recruit, and when they did their selling point
was that they had housing for you. I think that we mentioned that
there were “the shacks,” (housing the Academy provided just for its
black waitstaff) which at the time wasn’t bad living because a lot
of these people were “rural black farmers.” So you come to this and
you’ve got indoor plumbing!”

Could you talk
about “the shacks” some more and where they were?

To say where they
were, I think that would be 17th road just north of (State Road) 10
and the north side of the Academy. I think it‘s primarily vacant
now. They were on that road, set apart of course from the main
campus of the Academy. But, that was the housing for their waiters.

I’ve been told
that there were some in what we call the “Indian Trails” now. Was
that earlier…later?

It would have been
earlier, I think. At the time (later) it was not bad housing. They
did let them get quite run down after awhile. I don’t remember when
they changed from the waiter system to the now cafeteria system.
Because, at that time, every meal (breakfast, lunch, and supper) was
a sit-down served by a waiter. That was the caliber of the Academy
at that time. They didn’t really pay them that much. It was a
low-wage job. There’s no ifs ands or butts about that. But, then
they also had them as janitors. My dad came as a waiter and then he
became a janitor. South barracks was the one that he had primary
care of. Sheep Scott, who I don’t know how long he had been in town
or stayed in town...Sheep was the superintendent of the janitors, so
to speak. That was his responsibility, to see over all the janitors.
Charlie Dickerson was the “head waiter.” He had responsibility for
all the waiters. Roy Scott was his immediate assistant.

I get the
impression from looking at old papers that the students really
related to Sheep Scott.

They
did, not only did the Academy students relate to him, but all the
kids here in town knew Sheep Scott. One of the reasons why was
because he provided a lot of us with sports equipment. When those
cadets left in the spring to go home for the summer they left
anything and everything in their rooms. Some of it was quite
valuable. These were kids with money. The population of the Academy
now is poor compared to the population and of the economic situation
of the kids at school then. You knew that if the kid was at the
Academy, and the only exception to that were the kids of people on
staff, they had money. I don’t know of any kid in town whose parents
didn’t work for the Academy, in a teaching or professional capacity
that went to the Academy. For example, Peter Sexton, who I started
first grade with, went to the Academy and his father was the
chaplain. Those were the kinds of kids who went to the Academy from
town.

Do you know how
far back they were bringing in black wait staff?

I believe from the
inception of the Academy. I think that the Academy moved to Culver
in the late 1800’s or early 1900’s.

From what I’ve
heard, most of the early students were from St. Louis because there
was a fire. And to my understanding they brought the wait staff with
them from St. Louis.

Yes, like I said a
lot of these people I knew had roots in St. Louis and families down
there.

When did that
stop? What general period?

I’m not sure when
the waiters stopped. I believe in the late 50’s early 60’s but
that’s a pure guess. I was not here when it stopped. I’m inclined to
believe over into the 60’s though.

Now we look at
that sort of system and that sort of arrangement and we think it’s
almost demeaning, just because of this rigid color line. Was there
an awareness of that at that time?

Yes, I would have to
say there was. This was especially true later when in the middle
40’s they started bringing in people from Arkansas. These were
primarily the black rural people. They were “not accepted” in town
by either whites or blacks. They were not sophisticated at all, it
just wasn’t there, it wasn’t their background. Are you familiar
with a writer from the Chicago Tribune? I think his name was Roy
Ottley. He made (a) statement in one of his articles one time, and
he was talking about rural blacks moving to the cities and the
things that happened in and around that. His comment was, “they
bring their baggage with them,” meaning that those traditions, those
sayings that they grew up with, when they moved someplace else,
that’s still was a part of them. That was the case with those young
men coming up from Arkansas. They lived and they did things as they
were used to doing them in their own situations, which was, in a
very real sense, completely foreign. Not, bad per se, as you look
back, but foreign to those of us who lived and grew up here. It just
wasn’t the same.

You told me the
story about the Jitterbug.

Yes, that being one.

The jitterbug was a
dance that came out around the middle 40’s. I remember very
specifically at one of the school dances they (the rural black
waiters newly in town) came in for the dance and they were doing the
jitterbug. I don’t know if I can compare the jitterbug to any dance
that we know of now, but it was “sexually provocative” in terms of
what people knew in terms of dancing (in those days). I can remember
Bill McClain telling Trudy McKey talking about that, “that just
shouldn’t be done, those people shouldn’t be doing that!” And Trudy
says to him, “Bill! Jim’s back there listening to you!” And his
comment was, “Oh hell! He’s one of us! I don’t care if he hears it!”

A part of the
provincialism in Culver in reality is the people who were born and
raised here belong here. Yes, if you come in and you’re not white
you’re more readily recognized as a stranger. So you can say it’s
prejudice and in a very real sense it is prejudice, but it’s not
prejudice based solely upon color. It’s prejudice based on being
strange, too. A lot of what happened in Culver still happens. My
buddy’s wife was raised over by Huntington and they have been
married 25 years. Not too long ago she said every now and then she
very much gets that feeling that she’s an outsider.

You distinguish
between provincialism and prejudice.

They both start with
“p,” and the end results, when it hits you, is the same. But, there
is that subtle difference. Culver is very provincial. There’s no ifs
ands or buts about it. Prime example: when I moved back it was
almost like I had not been gone. The church that I now attend did
not even exist when I went away to school. But, the first Sunday
that we went, the one lady said, “Are you (of the Harper family I
knew)?” and when I said yes, even though a number of the people in
that church now were not born or raised in Culver, you were accepted
as a Culverite, a native. In a lot of other instances of things
I’ve become involved in, it’s the same kind of situation. I think
the fact that I’m a Lion (a member of Culver’s Lions’ Club) is
easily an indication of that. Though Lions have reached out a little
bit more so than you might expect in a sense.

Did some of the
rural black waiters from the 1940s that you mentioned put down roots
here at all?

Not that I know of.
All the people that have roots here were the ones that had been here
for sometime prior to that influence. I can understand why. Number
one; there were no females to speak of for them to mate with and
that is an indication of people settling down. Number two; even the
blacks here did not readily accept them. So color alone is not a
leveler so to speak in terms of social interactions.

One thing that
has really seemed to change is that there were so many more black
families living in Culver in the past. Could you talk about that a
little more?

I want to say that
there were close to 30 families, but what didn’t happen then were a
lot of the kids went away to school, but when they did they didn’t
come back. One exception that I know of would be Thelma Hodges (the
mother). Thelma (the daughter) didn’t come back. That was true of
most of us. You get an education, and this was true of most kids,
there just weren’t the jobs here. Some stayed as teachers but beyond
that the economy really wasn’t such that kids came back. I don’t
care whether you were black or white. Probably even more so for
those that were black prior to my time. I don’t believe that Culver
(the public school) has a black teacher on staff. I don’t know that
they’ve ever had a black teacher on staff. The Academy, yes, they do
now, but not in the town. That is what holds people, I don’t care if
you’re black or white, you’ve got to have an economic base to work
from and Culver’s never really had it.

Most of the
families that were working for the Academy at this time. Did most of
the adults stay on until they were older and passed away?

Yes, most of them
did. In some instances the children would move them away because
they were gone, but most of them that I know stayed here, died here
and are buried here.

Is the fact that
there was this black populous in Culver fairly unique in this part
of the country in a town this size?

Yes, I do believe
so. As I was growing up, if I’m not mistaken, Plymouth had one
gentleman who was black. I have no idea who he was. I believe
someone once told me that there was one in Argos, but I couldn’t
verify that in any way whatsoever. Now the Plymouth one I would say
yes that did happen. He did live there. Whether he had a family or
not I do not know. No other town close to us that I knew of, except
South Bend and Logansport would be the closest places where there
were people of color.

Going to school:
what was the social scene like for you in that sense?

I did not date in
high school. I had a lot of female friends, but I really didn’t
date. I didn’t start dating until after I went away to college. Now,
did I secretly feel that I couldn’t? I can’t answer that. I’m just
not sure. Do I feel that I couldn’t have dated? I think I could
have. I had one gentleman whose daughter had been married a couple
of years and I had been in the service and just gotten back and I
might have even finished college and was in seminary at the time. I
got to talking to another character of our town and he said to me,
“you know I always thought that you and the man’s daughter were
going to get together.” He was thinking in terms of marriage per se.

It was interesting
because I had been very close to her and considered her a very good
friend and still do. But, I never thought of her in terms of
romantically. It just never occurred to me. I was somewhat surprised
that he thought that. I don’t know to this day if she knows about
that. Sometime I’ll have to ask her. But, I’ll never forget that. He
thought that it was going to happen. I knew that he had always liked
me. We were friends. You know how youngsters and older men can be
friends. I learned from him, I respected him, I liked him. I know
that the feeling was mutual. So yes, he would have accepted that. As
I said, he expected it, and why, I do not know. Just because I would
stand on his porch and talk for an hour or two to his daughter, you
know… But, again, as I think back I would really like to know what
that feeling would be, and I never tested it.

One thing we
haven’t touch on yet is the Lions Club minstrel shows.

Above:
Two shots from the 1940s and 50s of the Lions Club Minstrel shows in
Culver; The front (left) and inside (right) of a program from a Feb. 3, 1950 Lions Club minstrel show, this one performed at the Culver Academies for the students. This artifact, loaned by Academies archivist Bob Hartman, is interesting, too, in the detail it gives not only in the kind of performances that made up a typical minstrel show, but also in the recollection of local names of yesteryear.

I participated in
those! Again you’re looking at a different time and a different
mindset for the whole country. Minstrel shows at that time were
strictly a form of entertainment. I doubt very seriously that anyone
in town, and I do mean anyone, gave a lot of thought in terms of
them being negative as far as a stereotype to black people. In later
years it developed and yes it was. If someone tried to put on a
minstrel show now they would probably be rode out of town on a rail
so to speak. I can only speak personally because I’ve never
discussed with any other person of color that was in town at that
time. There were several and one of these days when I contact some
of them I’m going to try to remember to raise that question. I know
that in our family it was never talked about, one way or the other.
Like I said, I participated in it.

One of the Lions,
when I became a Lion brought it up, “do you remember when?” Yes I
did, how could I not, especially when you bring it to my attention?
He talked about how much fun we had working at it. Yes, these were
fundraisers and everyone knew what Lions did with their funds. That
by itself wouldn’t justify it but that was the reason why it was
happening. I think probably most people were completely unaware of
the social negatives that developed in and around those shows.
Ignorance lets a whole lot of things happen in innocence, and I
really think that’s what happened here. Most of us were ignorant to
the fact that it was negative to some people, and in that ignorance
we innocently went on and did those types of things. Now does that
make it right? No. Should it happen again? No. But, you don’t
condemn a whole town for what took place way back, when what took
place was not done for a malicious reason and it definitely was not
malicious in being done.

Were minstrel
shows a pretty common thing in many towns?

I think they were.
Just across the country in reality. If you look back, some of the
first tv shows were minstrel shows. Now, I can’t verify that, but
I’m almost sure that I’ve seen records of that. I do know that a lot
of productions went on in cities that were minstrel shows.

What period did
those go on?

I would dare say the
roaring 20’s up in until the 50’s. It probably started to diminish a
little in the 50’s because there were other forms of entertainment
coming out. But, I doubt very seriously that any of them took place
in the 60’s.

Was this an
annual thing in Culver?

Yes, it was an
annual affair. I don’t know how many years total it went but I do
know that it was an annual event.

Were they a
variety such as comedy and musical?

Yes, they were:
comedy and musical. The purpose was to make money for themselves.
That doesn’t mean the negative wasn’t there, it just wasn’t the
prime purpose of doing the shows. I think that we sometimes move
away from that reality and see only the negative, only the
denigration that is in some instances taking place, in that kind of
music and those kind of play situations. When, to put one down
wasn’t the real intent.

I think a lot of
people of my generation have never seen one and don’t know what the
content is. Would you say a lot of humor was genuinely a race-based
humor or was that just the pretext and it was just generic humor?

It was both. It
was humor because if you are not completely familiar with something
it’s funny to you, because it’s different.

So, it would be
racially based for primarily that reason, I believe. And with that
humor, with that coming out, if I can get you to laugh you’re going
to come back to my play, you’re going to come back to my movie, and
I’m going to make money. Now, if I have offended a group, well,
maybe so, but that’s not my real intent. But, I don’t let my real
intent stand in the way of me offending somebody. So, it’s bad no
matter how you look at it but sometimes you have to really give
thought to how did it start and why did it start. I firmly believe
that it started because someone (an artist) felt that this is one
way for me to put out something to the public that’s going to be
beneficial to me economically.

The people who
were putting these on in Culver, do you think they gave it a
moment’s thought?

Not that I’m aware
of. And I don’t really think that we had enough of a black
population at that time to bring that awareness to anyone else. Or,
if that black population was integrated enough into the total
society of the town to make a statement. Like I said, I never heard
anything negative from anyone. Now, sometimes you just don’t listen
and I hope that wasn’t my case. I can’t say that it absolutely
wasn’t. I think in retrospect if I had heard so and so did say this,
but I don’t have that retrospect.

You and I talked
about a rumor that’s going around. There’s a very famous picture of
the depot of a train arriving…

Yes
and you were talking about who the girl might have been. My first
guess, if it’s not Thelma Hodges, would be Jane Dickerson, because
of the time period. I can’t think of any other person that would
have been old enough to be in that shot. Because, if I remember, I
think this would have been an eight to ten year old at the time.
Either of those would fit that picture.

You said there
were about 30 black families throughout Culver. Were they fairly
spread out through the town?

There was some
concentration but they were fairly spread out. For example, a good
number lived off Plymouth Street on Clover. There just some that
lived just north of Jefferson. Then, of course, we lived at the
south end of town out sort of by ourselves relatively speaking. But,
no they weren’t all clustered just in one exact spot.

You described a
much tighter knit community in general.

Oh yeah, I really
think so. And a prime example, on a weekend (nowadays) if you drive
around Culver how many Illinois plates would you see parked in front
of houses where you see them every week so you know they have some
type of ownership of that residence. You didn’t see anything like
that when I was growing up. Number one, people didn’t travel as
readily. Who would’ve thought if you commuted to South Bend to work
that was a long ways to go? People did it, but then to go 100 miles
on the weekend just for 2 or 3 days, that was a long distance. For
example Naperville to here, it would take me about 3 ½- 4 hours to
get here. That’s driving. You had 2 lane roads the whole way. By the
time you wound in and around these kinds of things, it just took
time.

Would you say the
town was more it’s own and there was less spill-over between the
lake community and the Academy community, so the town was more of
it’s own community?

There was almost no
spillover between the Academy people and town people or the lake
people and town people. The interaction with the lake people and
town people would be the town people would go work for them maybe.
But, there was basically no social interaction between the
townspeople and the lake people, almost none I would say. It was
very close to that with the Academy people, especially the staff. It
was a separate entity entirely. The schools didn’t even play one
another in sports as they do now.

I get the
impression that a townsperson was not encouraged to go on campus.
Now it’s perfectly acceptable to take your dog or your child and
walk across campus.

I alluded to that
earlier, the only kids who went from Culver Elementary School to the
Academy were kids whose parents were on staff as teachers or a
professional level. Now you get someone working over there as a
clerk and their kid goes to the Academy.

I understand that
there was a segregated pier in the area of what today we call the
“Indian Trails.” Do you know anything about that?

Yes there was. If
I’m not mistaken, do you know where the boat pier is (in the town
park)? There was the beach lodge and then the pier. I want to say
that was it. But, I never went to it. We always went down here off
Davis Street!

So you didn’t
really swim at the public beach either?

No, because that was
too far away. Every down here on this end of town went to Davis
Street.

You’re talking
about all these black families being in Culver. Is that who that
pier would’ve been for, or would it have been for the Academy staff?

Believe it or not I
can’t give a good answer to that. The black families that I knew
with kids lived down this way (further south) and Davis Street was
convenient. So, all of us kids and some of them of course were
black…Glen Schrimsher, Vern McKey, a guy by the name of Allen
Hewitt, Chuck Porcher, the Crossgrove kids, they all lived down that
way and we all used Davis Street pier. I think I went down to the
public beach 2 or 3 times at most. It was convenience and that
wasn’t where those persons that I grew close to and affiliated with
really went. So there no reason for me to go so I didn’t. Like I
say, I had been there, swam there, never was told I couldn’t or I
shouldn’t.

Then when we started
riding bicycles around everywhere…you know where Key Waste is, that
used to be a gravel pit. We used to go over there a lot and do some
stupid things! When we went there it was always almost all boys, you
didn’t need a swimming suit and you did stupid things like grabbing
a big rock and seeing how long you could hold on to it before you
ran out of air. I think they said in some places that was 60 to 100
feet deep. There was one area that I know I never got to the bottom
of it and I know several others who claim they never did either. We
had one guy who said he did but nobody believed him. Your bike would
take you to Burr Oak, Hibbard, all around.

Can
you touch on the African Methodist Episcopal church in Culver?

It was on Coolidge
Court, immediately south of what is now the City Tavern building and
it (the lot where the chapel stood) is vacant. When that building
may have been torn down, I don’t have the foggiest idea. I do know
that when I moved back it was already a vacant lot. I know that it
(the church) existed. It existed when I was a young kid. We never
went there with any regularity, although we had gone. I do know that
when my sister was in early high school she would play for them from
time to time because she had developed into a fairly decent pianist.
Do you remember a Mrs. Fisher in town? Her husband was one of our
mailmen in town. I can’t remember if he had our route. He was a
rural mail carrier. They had one old guy and I can picture him but I
can’t remember what his name was. The name of the church was Rollins
Chapel.

I know you said
you weren’t around when it started, but you have any idea of how
long the church had been established?

This is a pure
guesstimation, but I think somewhere in the middle to late twenties.

By the time you
became aware of it, was it somewhat well attended?

I don’t remember if
it had a weekly service. For some reason I think it was on a monthly
basis, but again that’s somewhat sketchy. I think if I had been a
vital part of it more I would have a better recollection.

Could you
describe what the building of the church was like?

I remember it was a
narrow building, I believe there was a steeple on the front, I would
dare say it would have probably sat 40-50 people, I remember it was
a frame building. I don’t remember any brick on it, and it had a
stone foundation.

Was it still
somewhat in operation when you graduated high school?

I want to say yes
but I can’t remember anything happening there. It wasn’t a thriving
church by any stretch of the imagination. I really don’t think it
was because by the time I was getting out of high school most of
these people had started going to either the Methodist church, which
was right here on the corner (of Main and Washington Streets), or
Emmanuel (on South Main Street), and I believe some were even going
to the Bible Church. It was just getting started then.